Supernatural- Escape the Black Parade
by 101weirdways
Summary: Supernatural fan fic- Dean gets a call for a hunt... the whole town is turning goth: 'Even grandma's joined the Black Parade'. They're glad to get away from the Angels, but Dean doesnt mind too much when Cas turns up ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey!**

 **So... my first Supernatural fan fiction :) look out for some Destiel moments :)**

 **Hope you enjoy it and feel free to leave a review.**

"...That's just east of here. We can make it in ,like, an hour." Dean exclaimed into his phone, pacing up and down the gap between his and his brother's bed. He hung up and threw the phone onto his bed, grabbing his bag and stuffing various colours of flannel into it.

Sam looked up from his laptop. As per usual, he was swamped in papers, mostly tattered and burnt at the edges, a few shades yellower than a pages you'd find in your notebook.

"We got sumin' ?" he asked, a strand of his long brown hair falling over his face. It had escaped from behind his ear where he'd brushed it back to concentrate on the crappy superstitious/supernatural websites on his screen.

"Yeah," Dean began, grinning as he stuffed a tatty pair of faded jeans in the bag, "Pack your things, it's not far."

Sam chuckled, wondering what his brother was smiling at.

"and..." He prompted, now adopting a smile as well.

"What you mean, Sammy," Dean said, looking up at Sam and swinging the full bag over his shoulder, "I found a case- well Bobby did ,but you know- and no Angels, no demons, sure as heck no sons of bitches from hell. I mean, how long's it been Sam." He paused as he walked over to the door with his bag, "Maybe this'll be like old times again."

They looked at each other, smiling, then they dropped their gazed to the floor, as though embarrassed. Both chuckling, Dean opened and walked out the door to the Impala, leaving Sam to pack his bag. Sam lifted himself up from the chair and grabbed his worn-out bag and started stuffing his clothes into it. He heard the bang of the car boot on the road outside and Dean getting into the front seat.

They left the motel a few minutes later, as soon as Sam had handed in the key. He still had no idea what the case was, but Dean was so happy, he didn't seem to mind. With his favourite tape in the stereo, Dean pushed down on the accelerator of the Impala and they sped down the highway. Birds flew out of the trees and the engine roared and spluttered. Dean tried hard to keep his beloved car in great condition, but it was hard considering their mileage.

"So?" Sam asked out of the blue. He looked at his brother, who's eyes were fixed on the road. He still had the flicker of a smirk on the edge of his lips. He turned to Sam, looking confused.

"So what?" He replied in his deep, growly tone.

"You still haven't told me a word on the case. I don't even know where we're hunting, let alone what."

"Neither do i..."

"Sorry.." Sam asked. Now he was the one confused.

"Well, i know where obviously..." Dean said, but he seemed to forget that what he was saying had a point and didn't continue.

After a short pause where everything was quiet, despite the splutters of the car, Sam asked again.

"Ok Sammy..." Dean said, taking one hand off the wheel to point at his brother. "So there's a street, in a town not far from here. One by one, each person from that street is... changing"

"Changing?" Sam interrupted. "How?"

"Well..." Dean chuckled, putting his hand back on the steering wheel and glancing back at the road before continuing, "They are all, house by house, becoming... Goths."

"Goths?!" Sam exclaimed, though he didn't find it as entertaining as Dean. He scoffed, shaking his head. "And... how is this Supernatural?"

"Cos it's everyone Sam! Mum, Dad, Prissy little Virgins dressed in pink... Even Grandma joined in the Black parade!"

Sam scoffed again, but soon let out a small laugh at the thought of an old lady in eyeliner.

"Really?!" Dean exclaimed, slapping the steering wheel, a huge smile on his face. The music had died down to silence, but Dean didn't change the track. "Sammy, this is the best case in ages! A street has turned Goth crazy and you barely crack a smile."

"What is goth?" A voice said from the back seat before Sam had time to answer. Dean Stabbed the Brake with his foot and the Car jolted to a stop. Cas sat there innocently, gawping at the two men in front of him. His coat and shirt were a little dirtier than normal, but he was still culturally dim as always.

"Cas..." Dean sighed, banging his head down on the steering wheel muttering cursive towards the angel in the back seat.

Sam looked almost guilty for him; he knew Dean was excited to work a case that didn't involve angels, but alas, Castiel was here.

"What are you doing here, Cas?" Sam asked, Dean with his head still on the leather-bound wheel.

Cas gazed out of the windows on either side of the car dreamily. He seemed in no hurry whatsoever, his head gently rocking from side to side like he was on some type of drug that put your head in the clouds. Eventually, his gaze drifted over to Sam, who was staring at him, still waiting for an answer.

"Should i be doing something..." He asked, his eyes wide. Dean lifted his head up from the wheel hopefully. Maybe nothing was up. He looked at Sam and then they both looked to the Angel.

"WHY...Why are you here, Cas." Dean asked, trying to make it clearer for Cas, speaking to him like he would a toddler.

"My duties were complete for today, heaven doesn't need me until next sunset...maybe more." He answered finally, his voice considerably less serious than it had be in the past.

A silence followed, as Sam and Dean tried to make sense of what Cas had said. They knew the 'Civil war' was a big deal in heaven at the moment and it was hard to get him to come to you when you were in danger. Yet, here he was, in their back seat at his own will.

"You came here... because you were... bored?" Dean said, slowly. He was spun round in his seat, the car still stopped in the middle of the stony road. It was still relatively early in the morning, but the towering fir trees on the side of the road blocked out a fair amount of the morning sun. There were no cars on the track and it was pretty quiet apart from the hum of the car's engine. A crow might've been heard in the distance, but it was only a faint cawing.

"I guess." Cas replied, not thinking much of it. He gazed around again, finding the creamy suede roof very interesting. "...Am i interrupting something?" He asked naively.

Dean turned back in his seat so he was looking out the grubby glass of the front windscreen once again.

"Not at all..." He chirped, sarcastically, starting the car up again. Cas smiled tentatively, as he sat back in his seat. Loudly, they set of again, racing down the road past the shelter of the trees. A town was in sight on the horizon and they'd be there in half an hour or so at the car's speedy rate.

Dean reached for the rest of his tapes in the glove compartment. He slammed the new track in the player, replacing the old one, which he chucked on Sam's lap. It whirred for a moment, then The White Stripes started blaring out the car speakers. Reeling down the windows, Dean hummed the catchy baseline, Sam smiling at him, relieved to know he was OK again.

He knew his brother was right. It had been a good few months since they'd had a hunt like the good old days. The only difference now was they had an angel in the back seat, but that didn't seem to change too much. Secretly, Sam preferred it. He knew Dean liked having him round, whether he helped or not, and Sam liked seeing him with a smile on his face, even if it was just a hint of one.

He turned his head to gaze out his window. Surrounding them, were fields and fields of corn, all wrapped up into hay-bales. The clouds hovered over the horizon all the way round the sky, which was an almost minty colour. The sun reflected off the bonnet of the Impala, despite the fact it was gloomily powdered with dust from the road.

They were powering down the road, sharing the music with the fields. Soon they'd be working on their next case. And an undoubtedly puzzling one it seemed.

 **So there's chapter one... i should upload again pretty soon, so watch this space :D**

 **See you soon Xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two :) Hope you enjoy and sorry if it was a little long time coming, hopefully will be faster next time!**

No more than half an hour later, the Impala pulled into the car-park of the new motel. It was pretty average, a yellowing vine struggling its way up the walls of the rooms. Half the doors of the dozen or so rooms were painted a new,bright red, while the rest of them were a disappointing brown colour, the old, crusty paint peeling off at the hinges and around the rusty, iron room number. Clearly, someone was in the middle of renovating, making the whole place looking a little strange.

It wasn't too busy , as far as the hunters and Cas could tell. Apart from two kids sitting on the deck, exchanging trading cards, there was no one there. Barely any cars drove past either, despite there being a relatively large high street round the corner where sad looking antique shops and cafes lined the pavement. It was strangely quiet, but Sam thought nothing of it as he strode over to the reception to get the room. He had his hand stuck in his jean pockets, fiddling with loose change and the fake bank card, as he shoved the grubby green door open into the hut opposite. There was a retro neon sign over it, spelling out the words 'check-in', though most of the coloured glass poles were smashed and it didn't look like it lit up anymore.

Dean and Cas were left lingering by the car. After standing awkwardly for a minute or two, Dean decided to make some form of conversation with the angel.

"So..." Sam started before realising that there was little to talk about with someone like Cas, "How's... Heaven?"

Cas turned to face him, a look of confusion on both of their faces.

"It is as expected..." He replied blankly.

"Cool." Dean replied, desperately trying to look casual as he checked his watch and then stuffed his hands in his coat pocket. Then, clearing his throat, he turned to the boot of the car, lifting the lid and slinging his limp bag over his shoulder. Cas remained where he was, standing expressionless, as though he was turned off. Dean looked at him momentarily, noting his messy brown hair and the imperfect creases in his trench coat. The dark stubble dotted his chin as always, elegantly shaping and sharpening his cheek bones. Of all the potential vessels, even Dean had to admit, Cas had hit the Jackpot.

At the other end of the concrete car park, the reception door slammed, snapping Dean out of his trace. Sam walked towards the car, spinning the room keys around his finger. Dean looked down at the black surface of the boot, leaning on it with his arms out-stretched, the bag next to him. As Sam reached them, he chucked the keys to his brother and reached into the front seat for his back-pack.

"Room four..." Dean muttered, reading off the tag on the key. He looked round at the mismatched doors.

"It's over by the gas pump." Sam helped, pointing to the far end of the space to one of the red doors. From that distance, you could just about make out the polished number 4.

Locking the car, the three walked over to their new refuge, kicking the crispy fallen leaves on the concrete as they went. Once they were inside, Sam immediately set up his laptop, while Dean flopped on the bed.

"We'd better get to work on this case." Dean moaned, though he sounded tired, staring up at the grey ceiling.

"The goths..." Cas murmured, as he wandered through the door.

"We'll have a walk round, we'll see what's out of place then i guess." Sam suggested.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, "Bobby said whatever is going on is going on in a place called Phelps park. It's a few streets away from here, i checked when we left."

"Got it." Sam affirmed, standing up and walking over to the sink in the corner so he could wash his face. As he turned the taps, there was a unhealthy gurgling followed by the spluttering of the water pouring out. Tentatively, he held his hand under the stream of liquid, which sprayed onto the side of the porcelain bowl with a satisfying patter.

Dean rose and plodded over to the mock fireplace opposite the beds. It was large and made of an old reddish wood, peppered with chips and wood-worm holes. There was an old-fashioned carving on the front, with pheasants and grapes hammered into every panel. Ontop of it, along with dust an inch thick, where various stuffed animals on small platforms made to look like grass or sand. Dean poked at a terrified looking vole, standing on a muddy platform, one leg up. He shivered nervously, then turned the figure round so it faced the wall.

The wall paper could barely be called glamorous and was like something out of an over-the-top haunted house at a theme park. There were obvious lines where the panels had been pasted up wonky and where dirt and dusk had go stuck underneath. Poking aside a painting featuring some sort of bird perched on a blackberry bush, Dean also discovered a patch of brownish damp crawling up the wall.

"What a dump..." He remarked, turning to Sam who was wrestling with one of the taps. With an alarming crunch, the top came off in his hand and a light spray of water littered the tiled surface like a sprinkler.

Sam stared at the tap panicked, then bashed it to stop the water flowing.

"Yeah..." He agreed heavily.

"Head out?" Dean suggested, pointing towards the door.

"Yeah!"

They rushed out, Sam slamming the lid of his laptop closed as they went past the table. Dean leading the way, the three advanced out of the motel car park onto the street, heading towards Phelps park.

"So what is it we're looking for exactly?" Sam asked as the walked along the pavement.

"I dunno, man. Eyeliner, hairspray and heavy metal?"

"That is goth then i suppose..." Cas noticed, looking down.

Dean smirked. He stared down at his feet, making sure they were in time with Cas and Sam as they scuffed the paving stones.

"There's barely anyone out!" Sam exclaimed, scanning the area.

"You think that has something to do with it?" His brother replied.

"I dunno... maybe. If everyone has taken on this goth lifestyle, then i guess everyone's locked themselves away in their bedrooms. If that's what this is..."

"You're not convinced?!" Cried Dean, shocked.

Sam said nothing, though he didn't exactly look too sure that this 'goth case' was believable.

Eventually they passed the Phelps park street sign and looked up to see what was going on. The truth was... not much. From here, it was a normal street, long and wide with large white houses perched on either side of the road. Large maple trees lined the pavement, coating the space in shade and scattering the ground with orange leaves. The three stood there, exterminating for any potential pick-up points, but nothing was found.

Then, from a few doors down, they could hear a solemn chatter and the faint beat of a guitar. Walking up, they met three girls, who were sitting on the front step of one of the houses. They all had big, voluminous fringes, that covered half of their face and wore black and grey, looses shirts with black, ripped jeans. Their faces were pale and their eyes were outlined with a think layer of black. One of them even had black lips, making her pearly white teeth stand out, as if she was going to snap at you. Just visible through their helmet of hair, various studs covered their ears, colours like black, grey and dirty bronze.

One of the girls held a large, electric blue guitar on her lap. She had blonde hair, which curled all the way down to her hips and a long sleeved t-shirt with a pierced heart on the chest. She spoke first:

"Who are you?" She said expressionless, barely looking up as she fiddled with the strings on her guitar.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, as Cas stared at the girls on the steps in total awe. One of the girls, with a dirty ginger fringe which faded into black, giggled at him.

"Erm..."Dean started ,awkwardly.

"So sad and yet so tragically beautiful..." Cas remarked, quietly and out of the blue, tilting his head at the girls of the step.

The two girls sitting behind the one with the guitar giggled quietly, while the girl in front smirked, moderately impressed.

"Aspiring ,huh?" She assumed, sliding the guitar of her lap and leaning on the step next to her. She got up and walked over to the three at the end of her front garden. "Harmony." She said, sticking out her hand for a handshake.

"Uh..." Dean said, unsure of what was happening.

Sam took Harmony's hand, "I'm Dr. Coulter and this is my colleague Inspector Kelt." He introduced, "Is there anyway we could see your parents?"

"Inspector?" Harmony echoed, a little taken aback.

"Yes...er." Dean replied, "Don't worry, standard procedure. Going round every house in the street after... complaints."

"Oh." She said, "Come on in then."

With that, she turned round and walked towards the front door of the house. Sam and Dean followed on their own. However, the other two girls had walked around behind them and escorted Cas up the steps, their arms linked in with his. The look on confusion on his face was remarkable, but he was simultaneously so awestruck by these people that he simply went along with it. The girls looked at each other, giggling, as they squeezed in through the door, slamming it behind them.

 **Ah... i had to put Destiel in this, but i think Cas has a few more people giving him an eye. Really love writing this fic, so please review and check out my other stories.**

 **See you soon Xx**


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